Death and the Maiden
by Asteraceae
Summary: It's a man's man's man's world. Kozik/OC
1. Chapter 1

The doors to the clubhouse swung open with a bang, shouting men with varying amounts of dried blood pouring in. Hang-arounds quickly gave the men room, scattering to corners and pouring out drinks; the croweaters immediately starting to coo over the returning Sons. Supported between two of his brothers, Tig cradled his left arm, trying to keep the shoulder as steady as possible as he was led into the clubhouse. Opie, on his left, was keeping pressure on the wound with his shirt, while Kozik supported Tig's weight on his right.

"Tara's on her way, man, hang on," Jax promised from the other end of the bar, flipping his cell phone shut and throwing open the chapel doors for them.

"Tell her to hurry the fuck up," Tig complained as he was led in, unleashing a stream of curses as he was eased into a chair. "Shit hurts like a motherfucker."

"It's not like you're dying," Kozik grumbled, then grunted when Tig gave him a weak kick on the leg.

"Hey, man, I got shot for you, so a little sympathy would be great," he snarled as Kozik flipped him off and left the chapel, closing the doors behind him.

"Rough luck, brother," Opie said, standing behind him, lifting the shirt up slightly to check the wound then returning the pressure.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, taking a shot from Kozik's outstretched hand as he entered the room again. "Just leave the bottle," he ordered, and managed to pour himself another shot one-handed.

When Kozik left, Tig could hear the clubhouse behind him settling down, and focused on his breathing. It felt like someone was sitting on his chest, keeping him from breathing too deep, but the pain wasn't excruciating. His shoulder felt like it was three sizes too small, but everywhere else was alright; the adrenaline sweats were fucking with him, though. He felt too cold and too hot at the same time, real shaky. He had no idea how long passed before he heard Tara come in the clubhouse, and grunted when Opie clapped him on the good shoulder.

"Do I even want to know what happened?" Tara asked as she came in, taking over from Opie. Tig opened his eyes, watching Tara frown as she started working.

"I got shot," he supplied, then turned his head when he heard a giggle. He hadn't noticed another woman come in after Tara, but she was quickly clearing the ashtrays and bottles from the table, ripping open a blue sterile surgical sheet and laying it flat.

"You don't say," Tara mumbled as she dexterously cut away Tig's shirt. He watched as the other woman swabbed his elbow, quickly giving him a shot of something. Pain killers, he hoped. "Normally I get a girl's name before I let her stick anything in me," he supplied, watching with detached curiosity as she depressed the plunger on the vial.

"I'm Scarlett," she supplied, giving him an amused smile. "Tara's intern at St Thomas."

"Lay down on the table," Tara ordered, obviously focused on the task at hand. Scarlett moved to the other side, quickly pulling on gloves and handing a pair to Tara. As Tig lay flat, staring vacantly at the ceiling, the overhead light shone directly in his eyes. He couldn't tell which woman was which as they leaned over him, silhouetted. He let their muttering to each other fade into the background, feeling the meds start to kick in. He hung somewhere in-between waking and sleeping, the pressure in his shoulder fading to background noise. The only profound thought that crossed his mind was that he wanted a baconater from Wendy's.

"The bullet's out, and there don't seem to be any bone chips. It was just sitting in the muscle," Tara told him, bringing him back to reality.

"Cool. Can someone get me some Wendy's?" Tig said, while Tara and Scarlett traded looks.

"Go bring that to Jax and see if it's complete. We need to make sure it didn't fracture before we close him. He's the blonde one right outside," Tara ordered, ignoring Tig's request. As Scarlett stood, holding the bullet in her gloved hand, Tig shouted "WENDY'S!" after her as loud as he could muster.

Pushing out into the clubhouse, Scarlett saw several men in leather cuts stand and move towards her.

"Is he gonna be alright?" The closest one said, a tall, brawny blonde, looming over her and staring intensely.

"You're Jax?" She asked, instead of answering his question. At his nod, she thrust the bullet towards him, and said "Can you tell me if that's whole?" He picked it up and turned it briefly, then nodded.

She breathed a short sigh of relief, turning to go back in. "Then yeah, he'll be fine," she supplied, already pushing through the doors. When the man whose shoulder she had just been carving into squawked at her as she came in, she turned to poke her head back through the door. At the men's sudden worried looks, she nervously supplied, "Um. He wants a Baconater? From Wendy's?"

There was a collective sigh of relief, followed by a lean guy with scruffy blonde hair scrambling up to go.

Several minutes later, while Tara was stitching the entry wound closed, Scarlett brought the tools out to be cleaned. None of the men made any motion to say anything to her, which suited her just fine. She dumped the tools in the sink behind the bar, stripping off her gloves and tossing them in the trash can. She took time scrubbing her forearms, taking care to wash all of the blood off, before trying to disinfect the forceps and scalpels as best she could in the grotty sink. She didn't look up as Tig came back into the room to cheers and taunts, graciously accepting his fast food and sitting down to devour it.

When Tara called her over softly, she looked up to see her standing with the man named Jax at the end of the bar. That's her husband, she realized, amused at the odd pairing. She shook her hands off in the sink, then, not seeing paper towels or a dishcloth she trusted to be clean, she wiped her hands off on her jeans as she walked over. Tara's brow was furrowed, but she was more or less permanently stressed so Scarlett wasn't concerned. What worried her was Jax's expression, which was dark and flat. She didn't know these men personally, but she knew who they were and their reputation. If Tara wasn't there as a buffer, she just might have peed her pants.

Then again, she did just pull a bullet out of one of them. She ambled over, giving Jax a small smile as Tara introduced her.

"This is Scarlett Boothe, an intern at the hospital," Tara said. Jax didn't offer a hand, but looked her over. "I needed a second set of hands, and she works doing triage. I trust her," she added, and that seemed to win Jax over.

"We all appreciate that you helped Tig," Jax said, and Tara put a soft hand on her shoulder. Scarlett gave her a small smile, thankful for the reassurance.

"It's no problem," she said, saying what she thought she was supposed to say. She wasn't one of them, and she knew it made them uncomfortable. She was getting a lot of glances, none of them hostile, but the environment was enough to put her on edge—and she lived in downtown Oakland. "I'd do the same for anyone."

"We need to get back to the hospital," Tara said softly, checking her watch. Scarlett nodded, going to pick up the tools and dispose of the surgical sheet still in the chapel. On her way out, carrying the emergency kit she had brought, she passed Tig, who was now sitting with a slutty-looking blonde on his knee.

"Thanks, doll," he drawled, giving her a wink.

"Anytime, doll," she answered, mimicking his drawl and wink. That made the guys around him laugh, but she was out the doors with Tara, heading back to the real world.

"That was weird as shit," she confessed to Tara, once they were in the car. Tara laughed, glancing over at her. "They are," she agreed. "But hopefully you won't have to get involved with them again."

Scarlett offered up a shrug. "We helped them, didn't we?" she asked.

"We did," Tara confirmed, her customary frown coming back. "But sometimes that's all it takes."


	2. Chapter 2

The next time the Sons saw Scarlett was several weeks later. The Nords and the Mayans had been butting heads over territory, a conflict which inevitably involved the Sons. Clay didn't like the Nords on principle, so he, Jax, Tig, Kozik, Happy, and Juice had gone down to Oakland to negotiate a fairly uneasy three-way truce with the Mayans and the One-Niners. The business taken care of, they wandered into a dodgy little bar on a crowded block underneath a highway overpass. Rather uncreatively, it was called Underbar.

Following in behind Clay and Jax, Kozik took in the scene: the place seemed aimed at a slightly younger, edgier crowd than them, judging from the amount of posters advertising small bands and performers he had never heard of and the way the drink names were artfully written across the mirror behind the bar. They had rather goofy names like 'Whiskey Dick' and 'Your Mama', and he snorted in derision as he slid into a booth with the others. A jar marked 'TIPS FOR TITS' sat on the bar, next to the register. Credence Clearwater Revival played faintly.

"Hey, isn't that Tara's girl? Starlet?" Tig said, tilting his head towards the bar.

"Scarlett, dumbass," Kozik absent-mindedly corrected, following Tig's motion. Sure enough, there she was, and he almost didn't recognize her out of hospital scrubs and actually done up. She was behind the bar, restocking shelves of liquor, wearing all black in the universal custom of bartenders. She fit in with the place, he thought to himself, watching her move. She wore dark eyeliner, done in a little Priscilla Presley style, but she was young enough that it looked cute rather than overdone. Her masses of auburn hair were pulled back in a ponytail, and he couldn't help but let his eyes crawl down to her ass as she left from behind the bar to bus a table recently vacated by two Mexicans.

"Tara said she lived down here," Jax remarked, shrugging. "Said that was why she wasn't freaked out."

"Quick, somebody shoot Tig so we can bring her back to the clubhouse again," Juice said, to laughter.

"Alright, Juice, stand up and bend over so I can cap you in the ass," Tig threatened, and Kozik slid out of the booth as they fell apart into laughter and bickering.

"Well, look who it is," she said with a smile as he approached, leaning over the bar. He gave her his best cocky grin as she asked "How's your friend's shoulder?"

Kozik shrugged casually, blatantly checking her out and not caring that she knew what he was up to. Her tits were too perky and her ass was too tight for him not to eye her up. "He's back to being his loveable self," he said glibly, as he watched Tig lean across the table and punch Jax squarely in the face.

"And he was such a charmer when he was sedated," Scarlett joked, standing up straight. "What would you all like?"

"Six beers of whatever's on tap. I trust in your judgement," Kozik grinned as she poured them out, sliding all of the glasses on the tray.

"I'll carry them over, no worries," she said, coming around from behind the bar. As she walked towards the table, Kozik took the opportunity to watch her ass, admiring the view. Scarlett slid the tray onto the table, right as Jax said "No drooling there, Koz, keep it together."

"Thanks, darlin. Why're you workin' in a shitty little hole like this?" Tig asked her as Kozik slid in next to him, taking a glass and a deep swallow.

"I love serving mixed drinks to Mexican gangsters, what can I say? They tip well," Scarlett said glibly, giving him a toothy grin. "I'm glad you're shoulder's healed."

"You and me both, doll," he said, tipping his drink to her with a nod as she took the tray and sauntered back to the bar.

"You and me both, doll," Juice mimicked, pitching his voice absurdly low.

"Watch yourself before I actually shoot you in the ass, Juicy," Tig warned.

Kozik merely smirked, watching Scarlett smile and flirt with another customer, batting her eyelashes exaggeratedly as he dropped some money in the tip jar. She was cute, and though he suspected a part of her was acting so friendly just for the tips, he had a sneaking suspicion that she'd be all about him if he could get her alone.

Now to figure out how to get her back in the clubhouse, so he could get her in his bed.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who's read, followed, favorited, reviewed! If anyone wants to beta or give me in-depth critique, please feel free to do so. I'll write you/your character in if you do~~~

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It was a few days after the Sons came into Underbar, and Scarlett was a few hours into the afternoon shift. Her internship had just ended, so she was easing back into full-time research; she was grateful that she could work more hours at the bar, considering she barely had enough money for groceries and rent last month.

She was perched on a stool she had dragged behind the bar, working her way through a stack of journal articles as the day wound on. It was hot, despite the open windows and overhead fans, and business was slow enough that she had barely picked up $40 in tips since they opened at noon. Getting up, she refilled drinks and cleared glasses for one of the three occupied tables, and turned as she heard boots stomp through the door.

She saw the leather cuts, and wondered why the Sons were back in Oakland, before she saw Mayan god splashed on the back of a vest. She was careful to keep a friendly, flirty smile on; she had dealt with them before, and vividly remembered being drenched in whiskey and shattered glass after one of them had gotten pissed and thrown a glass at one of the other bartenders. She livid after having to work the rest of the night with Old Crow dripping into her eyes, and her hair had stunk for days.

Taking their drink orders, Scarlett was relieved to note that they didn't seem interested in picking her up—it was always a fine line to walk between being flirty and being safe. Quickly pouring their beers and bourbons, she took a glance at the clock, grimacing when she saw that it was only 4. Jesus, how much slower could the day go?

Sashaying over to the table, she kept her carefully crafted smile as she approached and heard their conversation. They were speaking Spanglish, but she remembered enough Spanish from high school and her undergrad and had picked up enough slang from living in Oakland that she could more than understand them.

"They actin' like 5% is a generous cut, like they doin' us a favor by jumpin' into what's left after Darby shat on Lodi…"

"…It ain't always so easy, they got more bodies…"

"You gotta think about Laroy, he'd be pissed but he could go either way…"

Scarlett smiled and thanked them one last time before she left, physically restraining herself from whipping around and bashing one's face in with the tray after she felt a hand caress her ass. If they didn't give her a hefty tip just for that alone, she'd cry.

Arranging herself back on her barstool and carefully flipping through her journals, she listened as hard as she thought she could get away with without being obvious. Subtlety wasn't really one of her strong points, and she was sure she noticeably jerked a little when she heard the phrase "piece of shit Sons" float over. She could only catch phrases from here, the occasional snatch of conversation, but she was dead certain she heard the phrases 'wreck their shit' and 'surprise them' at least once.

By the time they had paid their tab and gotten ready to go, Scarlett had heard enough to set alarm bells ringing in her head and decided to place a call to Tara on her walk home. She smiled softly to herself as she bussed their table, pocketing the $10 tip they had thrown down.

Funny how they never looked twice at skinny little white girls. She guessed they were too busy looking the other way, at all the other gangsters and outlaws.

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"Hello?" Tara greeted, holding her cellphone between her ear and her shoulder as she used both hands to rock Abel in the bask of the setting sun. Frowning as she heard Scarlett speak, telling her what she had overheard, Jax noticed her sudden unease and watched her as she hung up the phone and turned to him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly as she chewed her lip for a moment, wondering how to phrase it without unduly raising Jax's alarms.

"That was Scarlett," she said, carefully. Jax didn't speak, taking a drag off of his cigarette, waiting for the rest of the story he knew was coming.

"She said some Mayans came into the bar where she works today, and were complaining about the Sons. She said she overheard them plotting something, but she doesn't know if they were just trash talking, or actually laying down ideas," Tara finished, watching Jax's expression carefully. He didn't seem surprised, he just nodded and stubbed out his cigarette.

"We'll need to talk to her," he said shortly, standing as he went into the clubhouse.

"Well," Tara said softly, gently tickling Abel's belly. "I guess she's getting stuck in it anyways."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Oops, I meant to get this out much earlier. Apologies to all.

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The streets of Oakland weren't deserted, but at 3:30 AM, there was a definite hush. Small groups of guys in sagging jeans and lots of ink clustered together in shadows or on stoops, their dark eyes shifty and their voices low. The occasional hooker or drunk bar-goer tottered down the cracked sidewalks, cars sometimes speeding past, the muffled thump of the music on the stereo filtering through as they drove by.

Scarlett fit right in.

It had been one of the rarest of nights when all the planets aligned and the gods smiled down on her: she had a day off of both work and research tomorrow, which meant she could indulge in the favorite past time of all students- going out and getting drunk. It also meant she was going clubbing on a Tuesday night, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

She sipped from her drink idly, taking her time picking her way down the street in her ridiculous heels that seldom saw the light of day anymore. She loved that some of the more outrageous clubs did drinks to go after midnight, and had ordered two for the road after her other friends had split. She had finished the first one, but was savoring the second, knowing it was the last completely free block of time she'd have for another two weeks or so. The night was comfortably warm, so Scarlett didn't mind the fact that she was walking down the street in what was, essentially, barely disguised lingerie. Despite that, she barely got a second glance.

God bless Oakland, she thought drunkenly, eyes skimming over what looked like a drug deal going on at the end of the block.

As the roar of motorcycles echoed down the empty streets, Scarlett turned to watch the approaching pack. Herd? Flock? Whatever. When they drew closer, the headlights hurt her eyes, so she spun back around and kept walking. The motorcycles drew to a stop uncomfortably close to her, and she groaned, but perked up when she heard Jax's voice shout "Hey, Scarlett!"

She whipped around and bounced over to them, immediately much happier when she noticed that the hot, blond one with the killer blue eyes was among the five parked by the sidewalk. He was a pretty smug asshole, though, she decided as he blatantly checked her out with a grin. The prospect- Half-Sack? That was fucked up- was pretty cute, too, she mused as she glanced him over. She failed to notice Kozik's smile wilting, but was tickled when Kip's eyes looked away from her and, aww, he blushed a little bit.

Cocking a leg and putting her hands on her hips, she gave them what she was sure was a pretty drunk, goofy-looking grin. "Fancy seeing you here," she giggled, tossing her hair and batting her eyes like a vapid schoolgirl.

"The fuck you doin' out here in the middle of the goddamn night?" was all she got in return, from an unamused Bobby.

"I spent my cab fare on drinks to go," she said with a smarmy grin, shaking her mostly-empty cup at him.

He shook his head, and Chibs laughed, shaking his head. "Besides, look at all the scenery!" she said playfully, giving them a little spin with her arms outstretched, gesturing to the drug dealer at the end of the street and the rat that scampered into the alleyway behind her. She nearly toppled in her heels, but caught herself, managing to stay vertical.

"It's a good thing we found you, hate for somethin' to happen," Kozik drawled, swinging a leg over his bike to face her completely. Fuck, he was hot- the smirk and the ink and the liquor were getting to her.

"Maybe I'm looking for something to happen," she challenged him, her drunkenness getting the better of her.

Chibs barked out a laugh again, crossing his arms. "Oh, I like her, let's keep her," he said, elbowing Jax and Bobby.

Jax cleared his throat, and though she was still staring down Kozik with a face that was slowly heating, she could hear the smirk in his voice. "We actually came to find you, Tara told us where you'd be," he said, waiting for her to finally spin and face him.

"What, you want to talk to me here?" She said, gesturing to the dark street.

"Let's bring her back to the clubhouse, it'll be safer," Kip said, and when she turned to eye him up he ducked his head again.

What a cutie. She'd have to corner him later.

Jax nodded his assent, and they all got back on their bikes. "You can ride with me, babe," Kozik said, catching her arm and tugging her over to stand between his legs with a dark, promising look. She nearly fell into him, but he steadied her with a hand on her waist that felt like fire, and she forgot all about the cute prospect who was now looking like someone kicked his puppy. Kozik grabbed his spare helmet, putting it on her head and smashing down her auburn curls.

"Is this really going to make a difference if we crash?" Scarlett asked, but swung on the Harley behind him.

"Don't worry, you're in good hands, darlin'," Chibs grinned from behind them, watching Scarlett try to arrange her heels on the bike, too amused to offer any help.

"Where the fuck-? What? How do I… oh," she muttered to herself, finally figuring out where to put her feet.

"First time?" Kozik said, turning his head back as she wrapped her slender arms around his waist and pressed herself against his back.

"Please be gentle," she purred in his ear, and even though he could hear the playful tone in her voice, fuck if he didn't feel a flash of heat in his cock. He was going to fuck the shit out of this little bitch if it was the last thing he did, he vowed to himself as he pulled out behind the others. Her little squeal and the way she gripped him tighter was immensely gratifying, and he grinned as she pressed herself as close as she could to him.

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Kozik kept an arm wrapped securely around Scarlett as they walked into the clubhouse, partly because her tiny little waist and flared hips felt good in his hand, but also because she looked like she needed the support.

I'm entirely too drunk, she thought to herself with surprising clarity, given that all she could think about was Kozik's arm and back and smug fucking grin, like he knew he already had her. He did, he knew and she knew, and he knew she knew, and she knew he knew she knew, but it still irritated her.

That line of thought was too much for her, so she simply focused on the clubhouse. It was different at night, as a party was winding down, though it still looked like a good fucking time. Hot girls danced and twirled around poles, of both the stripper and male variety. Scarlett was reminded of college house parties but older and grittier, in a good way, and she immediately warmed up to the atmosphere. She turned in Kozik's grasp to watch a girl in a thong and heels even taller than hers execute a move on the pole that involved spinning upside down and putting her leg behind her head at the same time. She couldn't help but let out a long wolf-whistle, to laughter and hoots.

Kozik laughed as he tugged her along, pulling her side flush against his again. Jax and the others had shooed several croweaters and couples off of the couches and arranged themselves in them, and Scarlett dropped into one gratefully.

"Tell us about the Mayans," Jax coaxed her, obviously not interested in the foreplay.

Toeing off her heels, Scarlett tucked her abused feet underneath her, wiggling her skirt down as she considered her answer. "They were mostly talking shit about you, but I don't know if it was serious or idle," she eventually said, folding her hands neatly and gazing at Jax solemnly, as if she wasn't completely smashed and a girl with her tits out was giving an enthusiastic blowjob to Tig five feet behind him.

"They didn't mention dates? Places? Anything specific?" Bobby prodded, studying Scarlett carefully. She was cute, and funny, and obviously smart as a whip. He couldn't help but be suspicious; a girl like that could cause a lot of trouble.

"They mentioned someone named Laroy? And a deal, I think," she mused, rubbing at her forehead. She was starting to sober up a little, but her head was still pretty fuzzy.

"Oh!" She exclaimed, looking up suddenly, making Chibs jerk slightly in surprise. "They said something about cornering you. I guess, like, a trap?" She said, with a shrug. "They didn't say where or a time, but yeah, a trap," she confirmed to herself with a nod, not noticing Kozik stretching an arm behind her and idly twirling a strand of her hair around a finger. She was a cute drunk, and the way her eyes kept flitting over to him was promising.

"Alright. You've helped us, Scarlett," Jax said, leaning forward and putting a hand on her knee. "You should stay the night here. We'll take you home in the morning," he said, and despite her tipsy haze, she knew this was an offer extended to those who were trusted only.

"Thank you," she said simply, bobbing her head. They nodded at her and got up, leaving her alone on the couch with a smirking Kozik, who was feeling a growing pull in his abs.

It was shaping up to be a good night.


	5. Chapter 5

Kozik tugged the strand of Scarlett's hair he had wound around his finger to get her attention. She turned from checking out a croweater to look at him, one corner of her mouth quirked up.

"Buy me a drink?" She asked him when he just raked his eyes up and down her body.

"You don't have to buy them, they're free," he grinned, amused at how unfamiliar she was with the workings of the club.

"_WHAT?" _She nearly shrieked, sitting bolt upright and staring at him intensely, as if he had told her something spectacular.

He laughed at her, absolutely pleased that she could amuse him without even trying. Some croweaters tried so hard, trying to be whatever they thought he wanted, but most of them fell flat. He raised his eyebrows when Scarlett suddenly got right in his face, one finger coming up to poke him in the nose.

"If you're lying to me and I have to actually pay, I will come back here and kill you," she promised solemnly, but broke into tipsy giggles at the end, unable to keep up her act. Then she was gone, and Kozik could practically hear the thunderclap from the displaced air, she moved to the bar so fast. A pretty blonde croweater noticed his vacant lap and sat down in it, cuddling up to him and cooing something dirty in his ear, but he was too busy watching Scarlett's pert little ass as she leaned over the bar, speaking with Half-Sack.

When Scarlett turned back around, she noticed a girl hanging all over Kozik, but his eyes immediately found hers. Fuck, she thought, taking in the picture of him: languidly sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, all muscle and tattoos and leather, a girl grinding on his leg. He was smirking, keeping her eye contact, drawing her in—his blue eyes were hypnotic, and she nearly tilted forwards. She felt a flash of heat all over, and the delicious shiver going down her spine that told her he was going to get what he wanted. She started when Half-Sack touched her shoulder, sliding the tray of shot glasses over to her, so wrapped up in the moment that she forgot where she was.

Taking the tray, she pranced over to him, sauntering as much as she could without toppling over beneath the fog of liquor. Without hesitation, she sat down on his unoccupied knee, handing the surprised croweater a shot and picking up another one for herself. Clinking her glass against the blonde's, she took the shot, and after a second the other girl did, too. She grabbed another and turned to Kozik, holding it up to his lips. He was grinning like a mad man, his hands coming to rest on either girl's ass, so he opened his mouth, letting Scarlett pour the liquor in. To his surprise, she then proceeded to ignore him.

She leaned over and was speaking with the croweater, their mouths by each other's ears. Most croweaters were fairly territorial, but Scarlett seemed to have won this one over; Kozik recalled her name as Katie. Chibs gave a wolf whistle as he walked by, and Kozik grinned up at him, saying "I don't fuckin' know, brother."

Scarlett knew exactly what she was doing to him: she and Katie were nestled into his lap, legs tangled together from the proximity. One of Katie's hands was rubbing Kozik's chest, the other resting on Scarlett's shoulder, and Scarlett was hyper-focused on the contrast between her soft, warm hand and the rough denim and hard muscle underneath of Kozik's leg.

After talking and giggling drunkenly to each other for a few minutes, their faces slowly getting closer and their arms gradually winding more and more around Kozik and each other, Katie squealed when she was suddenly plucked out of Kozik's lap.

"Don't be greedy, shithead," Tig said, effortlessly slinging Katie over his shoulder and giving her a slap on the ass as she wriggled. "You gotta fuckin' share, and these two bitches would be too much for you, anyways," he laughed as he sauntered off to his dorm, ignoring Kozik flipping him off.

Almost immediately, Kozik had swung Scarlett's other leg across his lap so she was straddling him.

"Were you tryin' to cockblock me?" He asked with a grin, his hands cupping her ass then sliding slowly up her back to hold onto her hips. He let out a soft groan as she arched into his touch instinctively, rolling her hips.

Scarlett batted her eyes innocently, twisting around to grab two shots, taking one for herself and feeding one to him again.

"Just looking out for myself," she said, and she didn't have a chance to say anything else before Kozik fisted one hand in her hair, bringing her mouth to his. The kiss tasted like the whiskey they had been drinking, and was drunkenly passionate. Scarlett was forward, perhaps unsurprisingly; one hand slid under his cut to rub at his chest, the other slinging around the back of his neck. Their tongues tangled together, and Scarlett could feel the heat unfurling like an explosion in her chest, running down to her core.

This was different than her previous drunken hookups. She never got what she wanted, always having to take it for herself. Sex was a battleground more often than not. Kozik gave and gave, though, and seemed to get pleasure in the giving; somehow knowing exactly when to bite her lip or squeeze her ass.

She felt a rush of air and a sense of weightlessness as Kozik stood, effortlessly carrying her with one hand under her ass. She was so underfed that it didn't take much effort for him, though he did nearly trip as she buried her head in his neck, biting him solidly. He growled, and he could hear her giggle into his cut. Tossing her easily onto the bed in his dorm, he shut the door behind him, watching her watch him.

She slowly, tantalizingly, slipped her top off, then the mini skirt, leaving her in strappy lingerie and heels. His mouth watered, and he tensed, controlling himself as he walked to her, grabbing one slim ankle and pulling her down as he moved over her. Scarlett arched underneath him as he ran his hand over her body, stopping to finally grab her breasts, feeling the weight of them as he dipped his thumb into her bra and over her nipple.

She let out a noise he had last heard on pornhub, and he grinned as he settled between her legs, slipping one finger into her panties.

Dripping wet, just like he thought. His cock jerked as he slid a finger into her, watching the way her back arched and her head tilted back. He smirked to himself, removing his hand to strip off his clothes. Scarlett played with herself lightly as she watched him, one finger rubbing her clit softly, and the other hand playing with a nipple. The site was so erotic that he couldn't help immediately slipping her panties off, simply yanking the back of her bra and ripping it off; he was too worked up to fiddle with the delicate clasp. He needed his cock buried in her.

At her indignant squeal, he leaned down and nipped her neck, growling "Behave," in her ear as he teased his cock along her entrance.

Scarlett was frustrated, and obviously ran out of patience, because she tilted her hips up and impaled herself on his cock, letting out a long moan as she did so. As she rolled her hips up, Kozik couldn't help the groan that left his mouth, propping himself up to watch her fuck herself, one hand playing with her clit. He finally grabbed her hips in his hands, stilling her, and began ramming into her in earnest.

She was so fucking wet, so satisfying, that he couldn't help but take her as hard and fast as he could. He was sure his hands would leave bruises, and the heels of her stilettos kept digging into his thighs, but she felt so good he didn't care.

Slamming into her, watching her writhe with every thrust, he panted out "You need to cum now, Scarlett," and lost it as she toyed harder with her clit and obliged him. She rode out her orgasm underneath him, continuing after his had ended. She was breathing hard, but rolled her head to the side and cut her eyes up at him slyly, the corner of her mouth tilting up in a smirk.

"That was fast," she said, and laughed as he pulled one of her legs up to give her a firm slap on the ass. This girl is too much, Kozik thought, sliding out of her and watching her roll over and saunter into his bathroom, utterly confident, leaving him alone on the bed.


	6. Chapter 6

Staring at herself in the mirror above the sink in Kozik's bathroom, she huffed at the obvious drunk-sex vibe her rumpled hair and flushed cheeks were putting off. Quickly cleaning herself off, she tried to tame the wildly smudged eye makeup and formerly pristine curls, but gave up rather quickly; Kozik had already gotten the milk, so's to speak.

Swinging out of his bathroom, completely unabashed about her nudity, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was still sprawled languidly in bed, watching her with hooded eyes. He had this laid-back air that reminded her of the rattlesnakes sunning themselves she sometimes saw out on the highway: he was relaxed and at ease, but you couldn't quite forget the threat that lay underneath.

Starting to shimmy into her miniskirt, forgoing her trashed panties and bra altogether, she started as Kozik finally spoke.

"Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?" He said lowly, lazily getting up, walking towards her idly. It took Scarlett a moment to register the question, because she was still listening to the sound of his voice: rough, low, still gravelly from the fuck he just had. It gave her another shiver, one of the ones that ran straight from her neck to the center of her hips, and she thrilled slightly at the delicious twinging.

Looking up at him from under her lashes—she was still a good few inches shorter than him, even in her killer heels—she gave him her best innocent, doe-eyed look. From the way a cocky grin bloomed across his face, she knew she hit the nail on the head of what he liked.

"You don't want me to leave?" She cooed, running her eyes up and down his body and watching as his cock twitched. He advanced towards her again, backing her against the wall, muscles flexing slightly; he clearly got off on being dominant, though she wasn't surprised at that.

He reached around to unzip her miniskirt, and said "Take that off," his voice gravelly and picking up an edge. Scarlett slowly, tantalizingly slid it down her legs, stifling a giggle when his cock rose as her skirt went down. Once she stepped out, Kozik grabbed her hands and pinned them to the wall above her, admiring the way it thrust her tits out for him.

"You don't leave until I let you," he growled in her ear, biting and kissing at the place where her neck met her shoulder. Even though she hated being told what to do, she wasn't about to stop him when he was making her feel like her whole body was waking up, listening to his touch, tuning herself to him.

And she didn't leave until he let her.

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The next morning, Kozik woke up feeling way too warm and incredibly hung over. The hangover he could understand, but when he tried to roll over to grab a glass of water from the nightstand, he discovered the source of the warmth. Scarlett was wrapped around him, her head buried in his chest, her face obscured by the masses of auburn hair. For such a slip of a thing, she had really wound around him in the night. Kozik tried to be irritated about it, but failed; he was always secretly charmed a little when women curled up against him in their sleep, like cats. He carefully shuffled Scarlett fully onto his chest so he could move more freely, trying hard not to wake her. She shifted and groaned when he swallowed some water, woken up by the noise as her ear was pressed against his chest.

Kozik chuckled when she looked up at him from underneath her hair, and gently brushed some of it out of her eyes, wanting to see her face. She squinted at the sudden increase in light, and he couldn't help his laugh as she burrowed back into his chest.

"Is this what a hangover feels like?" He heard her mumble against his skin, and he laughed again.

"Get used to it, babe, they only get worse," he said, idly stroking her back with one hand, the other sliding down to grab a handful of her ass.

"I'm 24, I'm too young to be getting hangovers," she whined, but arched against his touch happily, clearly not too put out. "Fuck this shit, why does anybody _do_ this?" She complained, but wiggled herself against his chest so her head was nestled in the crook of his shoulder.

"I didn't think I was that bad," Kozik joked, then grunted when she bit him lightly.

"Shut up," she said, but mildly, without any real venom. He stopped running his hands up and down her side, but laughed again when she whimpered and nudged him, obviously keen for him to continue. He had a raging case of morning wood- unsurprising, since he had spent the whole night with his cock pressed against her ass—and he was pleased when she started moving into his touches, stroking her hands up and down his arms and chest, lightly tracing the muscles and tattoos. Her hips wiggled when he ran his hands over her ass, and her soft moan sent a flash of heat to his cock so fast it left him a little dizzy.

The night before their sex had been eager and sloppy, all hands and teeth and force, so he took his time with her now, learning the details of her body that he had skimmed over last night. He even let her ride him, admiring the view of her bouncing slowly on his cock, head tossed back and hips swiveling. One hand was braced over the O tattooed on his chest, the other was playing with her clit; he groaned and slammed her hips down onto him when she dug her nails into his chest. She left a small, bloody crown above the O, and he savored the view of it, watching her come undone as he effortlessly thrust up into her.

He felt a familiar fire light in him, one he had gotten a couple of times before. He wanted her to stay in his bed, because he was nowhere near done with her yet; she was too fucking hot, too sharp, to let wander out of the clubhouse and back onto the streets of Oakland.

That kind of feeling had gotten him in trouble before. He wasn't really cut out to be a one woman man, and he doubted she was willing to be tied to him just yet.

But Jesus, it was tempting to handcuff her to his bed and never let her go, he thought as she dragged his chest up so she could kiss him fervently, her hips dipping expertly on his cock.

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Kozik yawned as he left his room, eyes immediately latching onto Scarlett, who was giggling with Katie the croweater and Juice over cups of coffee. After two rounds of lazy, slow-paced fucking, all symptoms of her hangover had mysteriously disappeared, a feat he was rather smug over.

His satisfaction was tipped slightly when he watched Scarlett lay a hand on Juice's forearm on one of the tables, making a ridiculous joke that made him snort. His chest tightened as he realized, for the first time, that Scarlett and Juice had chemistry. She was light years smarter than him, but they both had the same absurd sense of humor; besides, he was closer to her age and she was hot as shit, which one of his brothers wouldn't want to nail her? The thought made him furrow his brow, an uncharacteristic scowl on his face, but he decided to think on it another time.

"What's wrong, douchebag? Bitch's pussy was loose?" Tig cracked as he walked by Kozik, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Tighter than whatever whores you dipped your dick into last night," Kozik shot back absentmindedly as he followed him to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

"The bowl was big but the dip was delicious," Tig leered, making Kozik snort. Yeah, he'd deal with the Scarlett problem some other time, he thought as he watched her get up with Katie, presumably to go home. He didn't know what he wanted from her, and until he figured that out, he better keep his distance. Bitch had a pussy like a magnet.

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A/N: Thank you to everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited, followed, etc etc etc! This story is a bit of a slow burn plot-wise, but will eventually have storylines that encompass Gemma, Tara, Scarlett, and maybe some croweaters. Do you guys want there to be more Sons shenanigans, or are you fine with it being the Scarlett-and-Kozik show for now?


	7. Chapter 7

In Katie's car, away from the cool, dark interior of the clubhouse, Scarlett's hangover was returning full force. The California sun was blinding, and Scarlett flipped down the visor to try to block it.

It didn't help.

"So you, like, helped the club? And that's why Jax let you stay?" Katie said, glancing over to Scarlett when she wasn't watching the road. She still looked bangin' even after a night of hard drinking and vigorous sex, while Scarlett looked like a junkie who hadn't slept in 72 hours. Bitch. Had her fake eyelashes even moved?

"Yeah, I guess. I didn't really mean to, though," she added, which made Katie smile.

"Kozik kept you with him?" She giggled. "He's a sweet guy like that, he doesn't kick you out. Not like some of the others."

That made Scarlett frown, even more than she already was. "What, they just kick you out after you get them off?"

Katie shrugged, noncommittal as she pulled onto the highway. "Well, yeah, it's kinda rude to stay, you know?" She said, giving Scarlett the chance to agree and not feel like a dumbass.

Scarlett didn't take the chance.

"Do they even get you off? How soon after they nut do you leave? Is it like a speed event, where you need to vault off their cock and run for the door? Do you even get to pee after?" She asked, which made Katie laugh. When she didn't answer, Scarlett affected a more serious tone.

"No, really, do you get to pee? Not peeing after sex can cause a urinary tract infection," she said, and Katie snorted in the middle of her dainty giggles. It was so unexpected it made Scarlett crack into a smile, as she shook her head and looked back out the window.

"_Yes_, we can pee after, sometimes," Katie said once she recovered, adopting an exasperated tone, as if she was explaining something to a toddler. "We're just sweetbutts. Well, not you, I guess, not yet, maybe, but y'know," she rambled, before Scarlett made a confused face.

"What's a sweetbutt?" She asked, and Katie almost laughed until she saw how serious Scarlett was.

"A sweetbutt is like a mama- she takes care of the club. She's there for them, y'know?" Katie said, struggling to explain it. "You've been hanging around the club and you don't know this stuff?"

"That's a gross word," Scarlett grumbled, trying to wrap her head around the club hierarchy. "Sweetbutt. Like cigarette butt," she muttered, propping her head in her hand.

Katie made a face, a quick flare of irritation igniting in her chest. Scarlett didn't know shit.

"It sounds bad when you say it like that, but we just have sex with them," she said, a small bite in her words. Of course it looked bad to an outsider, but she didn't need it thrown back in her face. She already felt like a whore enough.

Scarlett held up her hand, and said "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you have sex with them, they shouldn't call you a name like that."

Katie felt bad, and shrugged a shoulder again. "It is a little bit slutty, but they take good care of us," she admitted, and Scarlett shook her head.

"Who cares if it's slutty? You could have sex with 500 guys and you still wouldn't deserve a name like that," Scarlett said, right as Katie pulled into her street.

Katie peered around through the windshield, and changed the subject quickly. "Jesus, you live here? This is awful," she said, looking around with wide eyes. She had grown up as trailer trash herself, but this was a whole new level. She didn't even want to stop driving, let alone park and get out of her car.

"I've got a lot of student loans and not a lot of money," Scarlett shrugged as she grabbed her clutch and slipped her heels back on. "That doesn't give you a ton of options. My grant just barely covers the rent. Besides, it's not that bad, I know half of the bangers in my building and they're fine," she said with a grin as she hopped out of the car.

"Thanks for the ride," she called over her shoulder, giving a wave as she let herself into the run down cement building.

"Sure, no worries," Katie mumbled back, starting her car again, thinking back to that morning, how Gemma had given her a look like she was trash when she walked out of Tig's room.

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Several nights later, Katie was tucked into Chib's lap, giggling along with him drunkenly like she was expected to do. Her mind was already wandering, though, bored with the whole act. She obediently followed him back to his room when he tugged her, putting in all the right moans and mewls when she knew she was supposed to, but her heart wasn't in it. While Chibs flipped her over and slammed into her from behind, she was somewhere else entirely.

He didn't seem to notice.

Once he was done—she had performed a nice little fake orgasm for him, so she wouldn't wound his ego—she slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. After peeing, she came back out to see Chibs looking at her with one eyebrow quirked, like she had done something embarrassing.

"What?" She said, self-consciously, suddenly shy. She started wriggling into her clothes, not wanting to be naked anymore, wishing she was already home. "You can get a bladder infection if you don't pee after, y'know," she mumbled defensively, yanking her jeans back up. Why did she buy ones that were so fucking tight?

Chibs laughed, and said "Where'd you learn that fact, darlin'?" Even though he was teasing, and she knew he wasn't an asshole like Bobby, it still chafed. How dumb did they think the croweaters were?

"Scarlett," she shrugged, picking her bag back up.

"Who?" Chibs said, brow furrowed for a second. "Oh, you mean Kozik's little bitch," he said, starting to stand and pull on his own clothes, taking his sweet time about it.

Katie felt compelled to defend her, even though she would have been absolutely pleased to have been referred to as one of the guy's little bitch. Something about the night was just rubbing her the wrong way. "She's not Kozik's, and she's not a bitch," she snapped, flouncing out of Chib's room, not caring that she would probably be bumped down the club hierarchy for that little bit of attitude.

Whatever. She was over it, anyways.

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Two weeks later, the club had listened to Scarlett when the Mayans called for a meet. They had anticipated the trap, and amazingly, walked away with no Sons injured. The same couldn't be said for the Mexicans.

"It must mean they got somethin' on the side, if they're willing to blow this deal off," Happy rasped to Jax, arms crossed over his chest. They were outside a strip club in Oakland, after Tig and Bobby had insisted on seeing some female flesh to celebrate. Jax was still trying to puzzle out the situation, trying to wrap his head around the motives of their erstwhile partners. It was giving him a headache, and Tara's moodiness at home wasn't helping.

"It can't be that big, or else the Niners would be on it. They haven't been getting that much heat, either," Jax pointed out, rubbing his forehead. Happy shrugged noncommittally, one of his nonverbal cues that he was done with the conversation. They turned to go back in, but were met by an entirely too excited Tig, who was tugging an Asian stripper around the back of the building.

"Go and have a look at who's in there," he cracked with a grin, followed by a yelp as the stripper slapped his ass. "No, really. Go!" He called over his shoulder, disappearing into the shadows. Jax didn't understand how he could do it. The alleys stunk like garbage and piss, but who knows, maybe Tig got off on that. He wouldn't be surprised.


End file.
